Into The Underground
by Radiorox
Summary: When a murdered Naval officer is found in the Miami River, suspicions of his involvement in an illegal boxing circuit arises and Harm is sent undercover to investigate. What he discovers sends him on a roller coaster ride of emotions that may affect his
1. Teaser

Title: Into The Underground

Author: Jackie

Summary: When a murdered Naval officer is found in the Miami River, suspicions of his involvement in an illegal boxing circuit arises and Harm is sent undercover to investigate. What he discovers sends him on a roller coaster ride of emotions that may affect his relationship with Mac. Appearances by: Harriet, Bud, Cresswell and Coates.

READ THIS FIRST!

This was one of my two stories that I wrote during FOJ – Friends Of JAG's (On ezboard) Summer Season. So, what do you need to know? Mac's in San Diego (so are the Roberts and Coates). And Harm is in London. They are together, but Harm still had to do a stint in London until the General was able to fill the billet. If you guys want more info, please visit FOJ and read the rest of the stories!

Since these were meant to be like "episodes" I wrote it as such, just like JAG episodes with a Teaser and then, commercials… etc. The commercials were cheesy, but I kept them on for entertainment purposes. ;)

Total number of chapters is – 5 – I think. ;) This is to keep your appetites at bay until I get somewhere with… Whatever I am calling the Paraguay story now. Actually, I am up to Chapter 4 and I am loving it at the moment, save a smut part that I can't get past LOL! I suck… Anyway… enjoy gang!

Jackie…

**Fasten your seatbelts, JAG takes off next.**

**TEASER**

0410 Zulu

Near Downtown Miami

Miami, Florida

The abandoned warehouse situated just off of the Miami River had once been used, as storage for cargo vessels and even in a Sylvester Stalone movie. Now, it sat there, rusting away, waiting for real estate to buy up the land and make, yet another, high-rise condo. Though it had outlived it's commercial usefulness, some members of the Navy and Marine Corps found it to be the best location for The Underground, an illegal boxing circuit where men, without the formalities of rank or service, battled and bet away their frustrations. The Miami-Dade Police Department wouldn't interfere with the proceedings and most government officials had been paid hush money by the founder of The Underground, a man who's identity was more secret than the club itself.

Smells of sweat and blood permeated the confines of what they called the fighting room which was, effectively, an massive, metal storage room with double doors that would shut by themselves. The room was chosen because there were no pilings in the center for men to use as a weapon. In fact, it was completely bare save for the sprayed-on circle on the ground signifying the area of battle.

That night, forty-eight shirtless and barefoot men stood around that circle cheering on the two gladiators of the evening. It was quite a soundtrack: the sound of men cheering, combined with the sounds of a solid punch hitting bare flesh with the occasional sound of bones and cartilage breaking.

"C'mon Max, I got a hundred on you!" One of the men yelled as Lt. Commander Maxwell Riedling, one of two men in the fighting circle, connected with a right hook. "Yea! Nail him!"

The Underground was run in complete secrecy and one could only join if they'd been asked by one of the members. Corporal Paul Greene, the second man in the circle, spun around, kicking Max's arm. "Atta boy, Paulie!"

Of course, there were rules – no shirts, no shoes, no weapons of any kind. The fight would only end if one of the men were severely injured, knocked unconscious or tapped out. For the most part, those that were in the service opted to tap out before they had to explain too much to their spouses or commanding officers. "C'mon! Take your best shot!" Paul dropped his hands, leaving his body open for a beating. When Max missed, he fought back with a jab.

The location rarely changed. In fact, they had not had to move out of the warehouse for several months now. So good was the secrecy that The Underground held. Then again, some of the men knew that it was more than secrecy and rather, threats and blackmail that had kept everything quiet.

To the back of the fighting room sat the only fully clothed man dressed in black BDUs with a cellphone to his ear and a wad of money in his hands. He'd been 'lovingly' deemed 'The Messenger.' "Three hundred on Greene? Done."

For all of his bravado and cockiness, Greene soon found out that Riedling had a few tricks up his sleeve. The man attacked him, delivering a combination of punches that had nearly knocked the lights out of Greene's head. Blood trickled down his right nostril which he brushed it away only to stare at the blood that was now on his hand. "You fuckin' son of a bitch!" He angrily glared up at Riedling and then attacked. With a quick movement, Riedling was on the floor. He tapped once and then twice, and yet, it didn't stop Greene from kicking him with an animalistic rage. He kicked hard, landing a solid blow to the other man's abdomen. Swiftly, as Riedling was attempting to bring him down to the ground, Green jumped on the other man's body, grappling with him. Managing to partially straddle the officer's body, Green held rose Riedling's head up only to ram his forehead into it.

"Rumor has it that you were going to give us up Commander. . .It isn't going to happen." His voice was low and menacing. The look in his eyes was that of a caged animal out for his first kill. "Help him up!" He ordered, glancing over at two men who had that similar look in their eyes. "Let's take him out and make sure he's okay." The rest of the men, cheered him on, raising his hands in victory.

Soon, Greene joined the other two men, Lance Corporal Mike Sutton and Lance Corporal Tate Donovan, who were dragging Max's partially limb body down a narrow corridor. "Hold him up." They straightened Reidling's body, each man holding an arm roughly. Green struck him, again and again to the point that another blow would have cost him his life. "Secrets are meant to be kept, Commander." He struck hard again, this time, miscalculating and slamming his fist to an area of the face that Marines used to kill a man.

When his body went completely limp, Sutton glared at his comrade, his look of pleasure turning to one of fear. "You moron! You were just supposed to scare him!"

"He won't say anything." Green shrugged. To him, one unconscious officer meant nothing. Especially when the man was such a push over. Officers, in his opinion were nothing but lazy pricks who served to make enlisted folks miserable.

Donovan shook his head, then came down next the body noting the sliver of blood that was coming out of Riedling's ear. "No, of course he won't say anything! Paul, you just killed an officer!"

"Grab his body, dump him in the river." The men spun around as they heard the order from the shadows where a someone, silhouetted in darkness, stood amongst a cloud of smoke which emanated from the cigar in his mouth. "That's an order." Without another word, they took Lt. Commander Maxwell Riedling's body and tossed it into the Miami River.

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	2. Act 1

**Note: In this story, since it's a continuation of FOJ's summer season - Mattie is living with Cresswell while Mac and Harm get settled. Harm is in London and Mac is in SD. The Roberts had, finally, decided to move over to SD and Coates is there as well.**

**Enjoy!**

**J.**

**ACT 1**

1820 Zulu

Harm's Office

London

"Are you alright, Captain?" Rain. It was something that many people hated. It made the days dark and dreary and yet, it always reminded him of _her_ and a little fantasy he had once upon a blue moon when he was the commanding officer. Okay, so he was commanding JAG ops while Chegwidden was away, but those fantasies had kept him in a whirlwind. How did it go again? Oh yes. _"It's perfect weather for making love."_ Now, he had other fantasies, thoughts of the few nights they'd managed to spend together which he treasured more than anything else in the world.

It was the General's idea, Mac was to head to her new billet in San Diego and Harm would go to his in London, until a suitable replacement could be found. He would then transfer back to aviation, working out of Coronado. It was perfect for them, his parents lived in San Diego, they would certainly help with Mattie's recuperation. Petty Officer Coates and the Roberts had decided to accept Mac's offer to join her in San Diego. Something that pleased Harm immensely. Thankfully, Mac had friends to help out with wedding plans in his stead.

"Captain? Sir?" Turning his attention away from the weather, Harm's gaze met with that of his yeoman, Petty Officer Newman. The young, British PO stood there with that typical impassive look on his face which had driven Harm crazy. "You don't seem well, sir. If I may, I could make you some nice herbal tea? That will make you feel better."

Tea. With Newman it was always that stupid cup of _tea_, never coffee. In fact, there wasn't even a coffee machine in the office; he'd checked. "Haven't you guys heard of coffee?" Harm was sick of his daily cup of tea. He'd been pouring Newman's transmission fluid-like tea into that ugly plant in his office. That was another thing, he was sick of the plant and the fact that it seemed to actually like the stuff. Instead of dying, as he'd hoped, the Little Shop of Horrors plant was actually growing! He wouldn't be altogether surprised if it one day up and swallowed up some small and furry animal. Top all of that off with this waiting period of transitioning to San Diego. Harm was going mad.

Newman's body language changed slightly. "Tea _is_ better for you, sir."

Sighing, Harm softened his glare and shook his head. _I give up! _He handed his empty mug to the petty officer and forced a smile. "Sure, Newman, tea it is."

"Very well, sir."

Once the young man was out of earshot, Harm couldn't help but mimic his British accent. "Very well, sir." According to Mac, he was now picking up the British lingo. Whatever that meant. Leaning into his chair he found his mind wandering towards his fiancé. His eyes settled on his computer monitor and an e-mail he was writing her entitled: The Week From Hell. And that was exactly what it had been. Thank God it was Friday!

On Monday, Lieutenants Jerome Monroe and Lance Knight, two that were under his command, decided that they were going to fight over a girl. And it wasn't just a girl, she was _enlisted_.

On Tuesday, Files from an important case went missing and it was discovered that Newman had, by mistake, shredded them with classified information from another case.

On Wednesday, the roof to his apartment had sprung a leak right over his bed. He wound up sleeping on the couch; a whole foot and a half of his six foot four frame, hanging off one side.

On Thursday, he was pulled over for speeding as he tried to race to the office and prevent himself from getting there late. The police officer had been a woman, with a chip on her shoulder and an obvious hatred to males with Harm's kind of smile. To top it all off, it had been a couple of days since he had a proper conversation with Mac.

Dealing with her own command, helping Harriet and Bud settle in, toppled with them (read: _her) _going over wedding plans, was leaving a massive hole in the time they had to communicate with each other. Sure, they traded e-mails ending with promises to be together soon and managed to have two brief phone conversations that didn't pertain to work, but that wasn't nearly enough. Damnit, he loved her. He needed her and he wanted to be with her **NOW**. Somehow, the Navy didn't seem so important when he thought about it being the cause for them spending so much time apart.

With a deep sigh, Harm leaned into his chair again and closed his eyes. It really wasn't helping that with his longing came the fantasies of them being together. The memories of their first time were etched into every nerve in his body. He could practically feel her skin under his as they loved each other. It was, in a word, perfect. From that point in time he truly knew what it was like to be _in love_. It was exhilarating, exciting and so beautiful. And now, as he sat in his office, in a building surrounded by dreary weather, Harmon Rabb Junior felt truly lonely.

The distinct sound of an IM brought his attentions out of yet another fantasy.

_NinjaGirlMac: Hmmm. You working hard or hardly working? ;)_

Chuckling, he couldn't help but just stare at the monitor for a moment. This was, probably, the most impersonal form of conversation and yet, he felt closer to her knowing she was on her side of the world typing words that were only for him.

_NinjaGirlMac: Mattie sends her love, I spoke to her until late last night, Cammie is entertaining her ideas to join the Academy._

God bless that girl, despite her current state, she'd often still dreamed of joining the Navy and being an aviator like her 'dad.' He and Mac had often spoken about the best method of care for his ward. Mac had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she would adopt Mattie, if that is what the teenager wanted.

_NinjaGirlMac: I guess you're not there. . .Well, if you get this, I love you. I miss you. I can't wait to talk to you. . .And I really can't wait to see you. :kiss_

_Flyboy63:kiss I'm here. Sorry for not answering right away, just feeling very melancholy. :(_

_NinjaGirlMac:sighs: I know what you mean. :(_

_Flyboy63: Not to be sappy, but. . .I'm so lonely without you. :( I didn't know I could feel this way about someone. It physically hurts not to be with you, to see you smile, hear you laugh. It's like a part of me is missing. . .I need you. And it scares me to admit it, but I do need you._

In San Diego, Mac sat frozen in front of her computer. A solitary tear ran down her face as she realized, yet again, how much Harm could surprise her. Though she would be late for a meeting, she just couldn't resist chatting with him. To think, this was the man that she believed to be emotionally inept when it came to matters of the heart. Had they both really grown that much?

_NinjaGirlMac: That sounds like something you told me the first night we made love._

_Made love._ He smiled at the simplicity of the term which carried so much feeling behind it. Harm never knew what it all meant until he spent the night in Sarah MacKenzie's arms. Now, it was his addiction; he never wanted to be anywhere else.

_Flyboy63: Speaking of which, I am dying that I can't touch you right now, Sarah. . .You just have no clue. . .Well, maybe you do. ;)_

Mac chuckled as she brushed away the tear. Oh, she knew what it was like, what he was feeling. And when she closed her eyes at night and let herself go, she could literally _feel _him there with here. How did they ever deny themselves the right to be loved in such a way?

_NinjaGirlMac: I hate to end this, but I have to get going, love. . .Apparently your lateness is contagious. :Grin:_

_Flyboy63: I have to get going too. Newman's headed in with. . .you guessed it, more tea. _

_NinjaGirlMac: LOL! Don't be so hard on the kid. You'll have plenty of coffee when you head back home._

Home. That term seemed to alien to him at the moment. Glancing up, Harm noticed Newman with a slightly perturbed look on his face. "Something wrong, Petty Officer?"

"Sort of, sir. . .I just didn't want to interrupt but. . .well, General Cresswell is on line two and he says its urgent." After placing the steaming cup of tea on Harm's desk he retreated from the office.

_FlyBoy63: Now I really gotta go, Cresswell's on the horn. . .Call me early tomorrow morning. . . I need a run and to wrap up things before I can blow this Popsicle stand and come HOME."_

_NinjaGirlMac: Home. That has a nice ring to it. I'll give you a buzz in your early AM. I miss your voice._

_Flyboy63: I miss yours too. . . Talk to you soon, love you. :kiss_

_NinjaGirlMac:kiss I love you too. Bye._

Frowning, he clicked out of the IM and glanced at the phone with a slight trepidation. Yes it was common practice for both he and Mac to keep the General informed. But, when Newman used the term 'urgent,' Harm had a feeling he wasn't going to like being on the receiving end of that conversation.

Strange smells rose up from the mug on his desk making him scrunch up his nose with distaste. Taking the mug, he tossed it into the plant and shook his head. The sad fact of it all was that he _really_ was going to end up hating tea. With a sigh, he grabbed the phone. "Captain Rabb."

"_Captain, how are things in London?"_ Cresswell's slightly cheery voice wasn't completely deceiving. Despite the short span that Harm spent under Cresswell's command, he knew the news would not be good.

The first thing that came to mind was his ward. "Is it Mattie, sir?"

Cresswell sighed and chuckled uneasily. _"No, Harm, she's doing just fine. . .She misses you though."_

Harm smiled, he missed her too. "Well, to answer your question in regards to London: It's raining, my yeoman keeps sticking me with this _thing_ called _tea_, I haven't been able to speak to my fiancé much and, although I know I sound like I'm whining, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dreaming of heading to California."

The General chuckled, _"I am sure that part of that dream has to more to do with a certain female Marine officer than the sandy beaches and palm trees. . .Cheer up, Rabb, won't be too long now."_

"I hope not." He ended that line of conversation, hoping Creswell would get down to business rather than the personal side of Harm's life that he just wasn't in the mood to get into. "What can I help you with, sir?"

"_I heard about your two Lieutenants, what's going to happen with that?"_

Ah, but Harm knew that wasn't want Creswell was calling about. "Article 32 is set for Monday. . . I figure, they'll probably end up getting an Admiral's Mast or some sort of minor punishment. . .The fight wasn't too serious and Chief Brighton claims she led both men on. . .Needless to say, I was and still am upset. . .So they will also have to deal with my wrath, no matter the outcome of the trial."

"Is it possible to hand that case to your highest ranking officer? Also, are there any cases that are pertinent to you?"

Harm had this strange feeling at the pit of his stomach. There was something about this case shifting that he didn't like. "Yes I can hand the case to Commander Rand, she is extremely competent. . .And no, the cases are not very pertinent to me. . . May I ask why you are inquiring, sir?"

The line remained deadly quiet for a moment or two. Harm was about to ask if the General was still on the line, when he heard his voice come through clearly. _"I understand you've had boxing experience?"_

A cold chill ran down his back at the seemingly harmless question. "Yes, sir. . .At Annapolis. . .I won a couple of matches but stopped when I realized that if I broke anything major it could hurt my chances of getting into a cockpit."

"_How long has it been since you last fought?"_

This conversation was truly starting taking a turn for the odd and unusual. Harm thought back quickly. He'd had a few 'battles' here and there against bad guys, but that wasn't really considered 'fighting.' It was more like a back street brawl. "Professionally? I haven't since the Academy. I do hit the gym several times a week and use a heavy bag to kick box."

It wasn't quite what the General was looking for, but there were few people that he trusted for the particular 'mission' at hand. _"Let me cut to the chase. A Naval officer, Lieutenant Commander Maxwell Riedling was found floating in the Miami River with several bruises all over his body, a few broken ribs and a blow to the face that contributed to his death. . .Rumor has it that he was a member of an secret boxing circuit called The Underground."_

"If it was supposed to be secret, how did information about the circuit leak?"

"_Scuttlebutt had been floating around for quite sometime down in Miami, but no one has been able to find the who, what and where. That is, until now. . . A couple of days ago Marine Lance Corporal Tate Donovan was found half conscious on the side of the Palmetto Expressway and I sent Lt. Mayfield in to investigate. . . In a period of lucidity, he claims that he and two other Marines had thrown Riedling's body into the Miami river. . .Those two Marines: Corporal Paul Greene and Lance Corporal Mike Sutton belong to a contingent of joint service trainees out of SOUTHCOM. . Mayfield was not able to get more information out of Jones, sadly, he passed away from severe head trauma . . ."_ Cresswell sighed deeply, he hated having to ask so much of this man, but he had no choice. He simply didn't trust anyone else. _"I need you to head to Miami, undercover, as the contingent's instructor and attempt to infiltrate the boxing circuit. . . We are not sure how high up The Underground goes, but if it goes up as far as it's rumored, some of the commanding officers down at SOUTHCOM might be involved. . .You can decline if you wish, Captain. But, the reason why I sought you before going elsewhere is due to your. . .unorthodox modus operandi."_

Cresswell was often just like AJ Chegwidden, unwilling to send their personnel into the fire when things were getting too hot. But, another thing that both Cresswell and Chegwidden knew was that good officers wouldn't back down and Harm was a good officer with a superhero complex. He wouldn't back down. "I will get to the bottom of it, General. . .When do I leave?"

"I'll send Petty Officer Newman the information and details Jones has given us. . .You should be leaving tomorrow afternoon. . .I do appreciate you doing this, Captain."

"It's my duty, sir."

"One last thing. . . I know it's tempting to let the Colonel and your friends know that you are to be States bound, but I'd err on the side of caution. . . When you get to SOUTHCOM, Captain Harmon Rabb Junior will not exist."

It was a fact, the moment he heard the word Miami, he was already thinking about him being just a few hours away from Mac. And Mattie was even closer. "I'd probably be a bit too busy to spend time with them anyway." He voiced his random thought, frowning as his week just got worse.

Cresswell sighed deeply, knowing this was one of the most difficult orders he had to give anyone._ "Captain, being a family man, I understand how it feels to be out of contact with those we love. . .It's difficult. . . But, it's part of our duty."_

Tensing slightly, Harm got the full meaning of the General's words. He didn't like it, because it meant he was going to lie to Mac. Well, not lie exactly, but omitting details of his whereabouts. How was he going to be on the same continent, just a few hours away and NOT see her? His week from hell was getting worse. "Understood sir."

------

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	3. Act 2

Sorry if there is anything out of sorts. I wrote this last year, by now, I don't remember most of it. LOL! This is mostly a Harm story, Mac will have some appearances here and there. :-)

Enjoy and thanks for the feedback!  
Jackie

PS: The Webbs We... is moving along slowly. We have a new puppy (have had her for approx a month now) she's 9 weeks old and a terror LOL! She and her big sister (which is going to be 3 years old - same parents) don't always get along so we have to keep the little one inside most of the time. They are both German Shep dogs. Sasha and Kayla. Sasha, the big one is... well, HUGE. I call her My Little Pony. ;-)

Anyway, since the puppy is in the house I haven't been sleeping much. She decides to play with her toys or just about anything at odd hours. I'm getting there though! I finished Chapters 1, 2, 3, part of 4 and all of 5. It will start posting in September. :-) I know that's a ways off, but I want to get most of it done so that while I start posting it I can finish. I'll hit you guys with a teaser at the last Act of Into The Underground. :)

**ACT 2**

0450 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
San Diego, California

"Harm just doesn't appreciate fast food." Mac said with a sad sigh as she, Harriet and Jen sat around the dinning table with various booklets on wedding dresses, floral arrangements and local caterers. "A BigMac is like. . . manna from the Gods!"

"Well, ma'am, as long as he doesn't make you try his meatless meatloaf." Jen chuckled, dipped a fry in ketchup and popped it in her mouth.

"Jen." Mac said sternly, realizing that getting Jen out of the habit of calling her 'Ma'am' off duty was as difficult as it was for Harriet and Bud. "Off duty. . .it's Mac." With a cringe, she put down her burger and sighed. "I can not believe he fed you that meatless stuff. I'm going to have a serious talk with that man about what can and can not feed Mattie and me."

"I love cooking so if you two ever need a chef, drop by Chez Harriet. . .Oooooh." Putting down the soda she was sipping, she pointed out a beautiful bouquet of white roses and iris'. "You could do something like this, but make the ribbons a little shorter kind of like my bouquet." She smiled wistfully, thinking back to the day she became Mrs. Bud J. Roberts. "Next to having kids and finding out Bud was alive, that's been the best day of my life."

Mac and Jen rose up from their seats to take a good look at the picture. The bouquet was very beautiful and dramatic. With a huff, Mac sat back down suddenly uninterested with her manna from the Gods. "It probably costs a fortune. . .Hell, _everything_ costs a fortune. . .This wedding is going to bleed us dry."

"I thought the Captain's parents said they would help with the wedding?" Jen asked.

The moment Trish and Frank found out that their son was _finally_ going to marry Mac, they had been more ecstatic than they thought possible. Trish immediately went into 'mom mode' giving Mac ideas for the reception, floral arrangements and even the wedding itself. After some light conversation, Harm convinced her to ease off and that nothing would happen until he was settled in San Diego with his reservist billet. Nevertheless, his parents offered to put up whatever they needed for the wedding, including money. "They want to help, but Harm and I want to do this on our own, you know?" Frowning, she touched her hand to the picture of the flowers. "Harm's parents have been so wonderful with all of this. . .Trish seriously thinks that if anyone could keep Harm in line it's me." She finished with a chuckle.

"Talk about a full time job." Harriet laughed, taking the magazine away from Mac and tucking it with the rather large pile of things that interested them.

"Tell me about it." Grinning, she glanced between her friends and sighed with a silly expression on her face. "Every time I think of us married, I have these little butterflies in my stomach." She motioned with her fingers as a grin spread over her lips.

"Pre-wedding jitters. . . Everything will be fine, Mac. And if Harm winds up in jail the night before _your _wedding, don't forget, I forgave Bud." The women laughed, including Jen who had heard the scuttlebutt behind AJ, Harm and Bud's arrest the night of the Bud and Harriet's wedding.

"Okay, girls. . .Give me one moment, I must call my fiancé and make sure he's not out causing trouble." With a chuckle, she took her cellphone and dialed the long but familiar number.

"I bet your bill is off the scale, you call him what? Once a day?" Harriet joked with her friends, knowing too well how much long distance bills could cost.

Mac gave her a pointed glare, then shook her head. "I don't call him every day. . . Harm and I decided to set up a joint phone bill, for your information. . . And as a result the calls are a little bit cheaper. . .besides there's also internet."

Harriet nudged Jen conspiringly. "I can just imagine the monitors melting over their IM's."

"Ma'am, you're terrible." Even so, Jen was laughing along with Harriet when Mac turned a bright shade of pink.

"C'mon flyboy, I know you're up. . ." She waited semi-patiently, furling her brow in confusion as to why he wouldn't answer the phone. "Where are you?" She couldn't help but feel slightly worried. "It's Saturday, he should be at home."

"Isn't it a little early to call him, Ma'a. . Mac?" Jen said with a smile as Mac pinned her with a dirty look.

"No, he told me yesterday to call him at this time. . .apparently there are things he needs to wrap up before flying home and he wanted to get an early start and do them this weekend."

"Try the office, maybe he got called in for something?"

That seemed like a good option. With a nod, Mac redialed the UK area code and the long digits to Harm's office with PO Newman's extension. She was surprised when the young man answered the line. "Hello Petty Officer, it's Colonel MacKenzie."

Everyone knew about them and PO Newman, who was always willing to do a good job, loved speaking to the Captain's fiancé. _"Colonel MacKenzie, ma'am. . .How are things in San Diego?" _He sounded tired, exhausted even.

Mac sighed. She wasn't in the mood for chit-chat, she only wanted to make sure that Harm was okay. "Nice and sunny. . .the usual. . .Is the Captain available?"

Newman's tone changed suddenly, it was clear he was hiding something._ "Uh, no ma'am. . .he is out on a special assignment." _Being the one who had put together Harm's flight information and details, he was sworn to secrecy by both the General and the Captain. It had been the General's mistake to give the young man such sensitive information, but if Harm trusted Newman, then the General could too.

"What type of assignment?" She bit her lower lip tensely. Harm would have told her if he had an assignment. There was only one reason why he wouldn't. . .

Sighing heavily, Newman lowered his voice. _"The General gave it to him ma'am. . .I'm afraid I don't know much just that he will be very busy for a while. . .It may be difficult to get a hold of him."_

"Difficult to get a hold of him?" She repeated, placing her head in her hand. Her stomach was doing flip flops all over the place. Something about this busy work was worrying her. Harriet and Jen traded glances as they saw Mac's shoulders slump. "Has he left any messages for me?"

"_Yes, ma'am. . .he said he would contact you as soon as possible. . .And um, that he um. . .loves you."_

"Thank you Newman. . .Have a good day." With a frown and a sigh she placed the phone on the table. "Damnit." It was moments like these that she hated what they were: good officers. Glancing up at her friends she frowned. "He's on an assignment."

"I am sure he'll be fine." Harriet said.

"For the most part, when I've spoken to the Captain he complains about work being pretty mundane." Jen supplied, trying to ease her friends apprehension. "They probably need him to wrap some things up."

But, Mac still felt this sudden restless pang through her whole body. For some reason, it reminded her of when he was lost at sea. "Yea, I suppose. . .I guess he'll call me when he gets settled wherever he is." Though her voice seemed convinced, her body language said otherwise.

Two Days Later  
1245 Zulu  
US Southern Command (SOUTHCOM)  
Miami, Florida

The US Southern Command base was something unlike he'd been very familiar with. For the most part, Navy stuck with Navy. However, the military needed an installation close to South America and chose this point as a 'common ground' for all of the services. As he walked from the parking lot to the administration building Harm had to remind himself that he was now 'enlisted' and had to pay proper respect to senior officers. Arriving at the main building, he removed his garrison cap and entered the facilities. This would be the third time he played Marine. He headed straight to the secretary, a blond haired, green eyed civilian girl and used his best flyboy grin. Before he had a chance to say much, she noticed his insignia and quickly deduced who he was. "I bet you're Gunnery Sergeant Rick Davies, just a moment, I'll need to check on Colonel Barrette."

"Thank you, Ma'am." As he waited, Harm thought about being back in America. It felt good to be driving on the right side of the street, to see homes proudly flying Old Glory. Somehow, it made him feel closer to Mac and Mattie despite the fact that they were miles away. He knew he couldn't tell Mac where he was or what he was doing. It hurt that he was so close to her, a mere five hour flight, and yet, he would be whisked away before he had a chance to see her. _"Soon, Harm. . . soon."_ Soon they would be together, yes, that was true. But it was the time in between that was killing him.

Seconds later, he was escorted into Colonel Barrette's office. According to what Creswell wanted, Gunnery Sergeant Davies was supposed to be brash, cocky, with a bad attitude and a love for starting fights. Harm stood ramrod straight at attention in front of the Colonel's desk while the man berated someone over the phone. "Damnit! I don't care if it was a joke! I'll have your six in a sling, Grissom! Now find out who did it and get their asses to my office ASAP!" He slammed the phone down and Harm mentally cringed for wincing and slightly breaking his stance. "I saw that Gunny."

Harm stood as straight as possible, "No excuse, sir." He kept his words sharp and authoritarian sounding but still in a tone that would not threaten a senior officer. Biting back a grin, he remained at attention as the Colonel lit a Monte Cristo cigar. Ah, the scent brought back a longing.

"At ease, Gunny, take a seat." The Colonel kept his eyes on Harm, glaring and trying to rattle the 'Marine.' Many squirmed when he did that as the Colonel had perfected his million dollar stare to use against his subordinates. But this man, he noticed, wasn't even sweating. With a slightly concealed smirk, the Colonel reached for Davies' file and took a quick glance. It was all for show, he already knew the information by heart. "So you're here to keep my Marines in line. . .What makes you so special?"

Biting back a smile was very difficult for him, he was rather liking the way this CO operated. "Men need to be broken down before they become Marines, sir. . .I believe most instructors forget this. . .I know I am not here to be a DI, but that is how I operate. Very few men will like it, most will hate it. I find that those who hate my tactics work harder not to break the rules."

"Some men will resent you for pushing so hard, Gunny." Barrette was very amused with this man. He'd reminded him of the DI's of old.

"I realize that, sir. But this is not a popularity contest. I am here to keep the staff in line not to make friends." Harm was almost fooling himself into believing his own words. Maybe it was a bit too over the top, but he was doing as told.

Barrette grinned, this was just the type of leader his enlisted men needed. "I think you're going to do just fine, Gunny. . . Welcome aboard."

1610 Zulu  
Joint Legal Service Southwest  
San Diego, California

"Ma'am? Is something wrong?" Petty Officer Jennifer Coates stood in front of Mac's desk, her hands tightly holding a file folder. "Colonel MacKenzie?" She winced slightly, figuring that her actions might anger the Marine. Slowly, she came around Mac's desk and tapped her shoulder. "Colonel?"

It was uncommon and certainly odd, but it still happened, Mac nearly jumped out of her seat. "Jesus, Petty Officer, you scared the sh. . .hell out of me."

"I apologize, Colonel. I just came to give you the file which you requested. . .It was misfiled." She hoped that whatever mood the Colonel was in didn't mean the woman would attack her for no reason. COs had that prerogative and it was something that subordinates, especially enlisted personnel was non too thrilled about. Mac, however, didn't answer, she didn't even take the file, but merely sat there with a far away look. "Colonel, I don't mean to pry. . .but. . .is something wrong?"

Mac's deep sigh followed a slight shake in her body. Since last night, she felt that something was going to happen. Sure, those were natural feelings for humans to have, but this time it bothered her immensely. She literary felt it in her bones. "Ever get the feeling something really bad is going to happen?"

Though it wasn't quite the answer Jen was looking for, she knew it had to do with Harm. "Pardon me being nosy ma'am. . . I assume this has to do with the Captain?"

Lashing out would have been easy and, though Jen was a friend, within the confines of the office she was Mac's subordinate, a person she could just order away. "I know he's busy, but, even so, he usually calls or e-mails or at least gets online, even for two seconds to let me know he is alright. . . He hasn't called me all weekend, I've left four messages on his cellphone and I'm worried. . .Harm has this knack of getting into trouble and, this time, I am not around to help him get out of it." She buried her head in her hands and sighed. "Maybe I'm overreacting?"

Jen really didn't know what to say but knew she needed to keep things light and positive. "Ma'am, I am sure he's just busy. I am sure they just need him to wrap everything up before he comes home."

Mac nodded feeling slightly reassured. "Yea, Jen. . .You're probably right. . .thank you. . . dismissed." After Jen had retreated from the office, she sighed deeply once again then leaned into her chair as she glanced out the window. "If everything is fine, why do I have this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach?"

1720 Zulu  
US Southern Command  
Miami, Florida

Colonel Barrett stood in front of a small contingent of enlisted Marines. To his right stood Harm, at attention, dressed in digital cammies complete with that blank Marine stare. "Listen up, Gentlemen. . .After much searching, we have found you a new instructor – Gunnery Sergeant Rick Davies." Turning to Harm he nodded, "All yours Gunny."

Snapping out of attention, Harm saluted his CO, then turned towards the group in front of him. By now, he was familiar with all of them as their files had been on his desk the moment he was ushered into his office. His taller form hovered over most of the men, but there was one in particular who seemed to take this in stride. With the speed of a surface to air missile, he stood in front of Corporal Paul Greene, his personal space invading the other man's as he shoved him out of attention. "Corporal, am I dressed like a clown?" He didn't even give the man a chance to answer. With a strong punch to the abdomen, he had the man on his knees. "I understand you gave your last instructor a bit of trouble? Well, ladies, this is a whole new ballgame."

As Colonel Barrette stood by, watching, Harm moved away from Greene and stood in front of all the men with a scowl. "All of you, drop and give me two hundred. . .SOUND OFF." Walking around the men, he spoke with a stern voice, one that would likely cause fear to new recruits. "This isn't a game, ladies. . .Being a Marine is a full time job and I am going to make sure you do that job right, else you'll all be sent back to bootcamp by the time you can finish singing the Marie Corps Hymn." Walking to Corporal Greene, he placed a foot on the man's back, making it more difficult for him to push up. "I want all two hundred push ups done, and then I want two hundred squat thrust. . .Once you're done, you are to hit the rack and be back here at no later than OH FIVE HUNDRED. . .I'll be watching you, gentlemen." Releasing, Green, Harm turned away from the group and stepped to Colonel Barrette.

Greene pushed off the ground with a grunt and lightly kicked the man next to him. "You know what? We could make a killing off of this guy. . .I wouldn't mind kicking is ass."

"Sounds like a plan and my money is on him kicking your ass." Lance Corporal Mike Sutton chuckled, then grunted as he went into the next push up.

Glancing up, Greene found Colonel Barrette speaking with Gunny Davies, the two briefly made eye contact and with a slight nod, a silent agreement was made.

---------- ---------------- ------------------------- --------------

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	4. Act 3

**Dum dum dum, thickening plot ahead! ;)**

**Thank you for the feedback gang! You rock!**

**Enjoy!  
Jackie**

**ACT 3**

0120 Zulu  
Miami, Florida

Harm glanced down at a small white piece of paper with instructions to the location along with the words, "No later than ten pm. . .Come alone. You are sworn to secrecy. Join The Underground." Sitting in his car, he looked up to find an abandoned warehouse that was situated right on the Miami river near downtown Miami. He was still wearing his cammies, being in uniform always made him feel strong, invincible and with this strange feeling at the pit of his stomach, he needed that shield.

"Alright, Hammer, get going." He took a deep breath, jumped out of the car and became Gunny Davies complete with this strong, cocky strut. It was dark around the warehouse, so much that it was difficult to see where he was going. Not that it mattered, a second later two men grabbed him by the arms and hurled him inside. He struggled against them, but it was no use. "Let me go!"

A light flashed, blinding him momentarily and when his eyes adjusted he found Corporal Greene and Lance Corporal Sutton staring down at him with a matching set of grins. "Not a word, Gunny. . .But you are going to listen to me. Military ranks and formalities are left outside. The moment you step in here, you are just a man following our rules. . .We've apparently struck your curiosity if you came all the way out here. . .If you agree to stay, you'll be joining the Underground. . .If you want to leave, that's your prerogative, but we will be watching you. . . If you breathe a word, you're a dead man. Agreed?" Greene offered Harm a hand to stand him up.

Harm stared at Greene's hand for a moment. How was it that he always wound up in these situations? And this, by far, had to be the strangest thing he'd ever done. He slipped his hand into Greene's. "Agreed."

"Follow me." Harm followed the men as they weaved through the dimly lit corridors of the warehouse. The farther they walked, the sounds of people yelling became louder. Sutton stopped at the double doors that lead to the fighting room and turned to grin at Harm. "From here on in, you're one of us." The moment the doors opened, Harm winced at the stench of blood and sweat. They stepped inside the dank room and what he saw took him by surprise. Piles of shirts, jackets and blouses were stacked in the corners as men, barefoot and wearing only trousers cheered on the latest battle. "Loose the boots, jacket and shirt. . .No weapons, just bare fists."

Harm nodded and quickly did as told thanking God he'd chosen to leave his service weapon in the car. "This is incredible." And though it was wrong and brutal, it was incredible. There were service men from all walks of life – Marine, Coast Guard, Navy, Army and even some civilians. It was well organized, secretive and it was working. As he stared on, he had the overwhelming feeling to join in and find out, for himself, what the talk was all about. "When do I fight?" He bit his inner cheek, that wasn't him talking and it scared him that his mind seemed to formulate that sentence without him being the wiser. "Who do I fight?" He turned to Sutton who unrolled a wad of bills and handed it to the 'The Messenger,' who was again on his cell phone taking bets.

Greene patted Harm on the back. "You and I are going next." At Harm's shocked look, he just chuckled. "No offence, but you got me pretty good today. . . Mike here believes that you're going to knock me down, but most of the guys in here are betting on me kicking your six."

He was unsure how he wound up there, but seconds later Harm was standing in the center of a man made circle with Greene pounding him to a pulp. "Ugh!" He wasn't able to comprehend how the heck this man, who was a head shorter than him could have the upper hand. If there had been ropes for him to fall against, he would have used them. But, there were no ropes and each time he was knocked against the sea of men, they would shove him to his feet and back into the 'ring.'

It wasn't boxing, Harm deduced the moment he felt the first swing which was neither well swung or calculated. Greene was just free swinging and, as a result, managed to clock Harm a couple of times with a fierce intensity. No, it wasn't boxing, it was barely fighting. . .This was just a brawl between two men without the rules or finesse that came with boxing. There were no gloves, no fancy shorts, no shoes. It was skin on skin, street fighting. They were the gladiators of their time. "C'mon Gunny. . .where's that spunk you showed earlier?"

In that brief moment, Greene momentarily let his guard down giving Harm the opportunity to lay a perfectly calculated punch to the side of his face. When the younger man tried to kick him, Harm grabbed his leg pulled him close and punched him on the abdomen, his height and longer reach allowed him to make that move count.

Greene recovered quickly and lunged at Harm sending them both to the ground with an, "Oof." Using his legs, Harm pushed Greene off of him and quickly stood. As the other man tried to lunge once again, Harm found an area of his body that Greene was not protecting. He rounded, and placed a strong, clean kick against Greene's abdomen, sending the younger man to the ground. As he stood over Greene, there was a dark look in Harm's eyes and an exhilaration he only felt when flying. He was enjoying the moment, the fight. It was pure and it was real. The men cheered him on, all chanting for him to finish what he'd started. Deep in the moment, he came down to his knees and punched Greene on the side of the face, knocking him out.

In the back of the room two 'The Messenger' stood with eyes wide open. "Sir, I think I found your knew race horse. . .Gunny Davies." He said into the cellphone.

Sutton came up to Harm, raising one of his hands in the air as a sign of victory. "Welcome to the Underground."

0349 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
San Diego, California

Mac sat on her sofa with a notebook computer on her lap, her legs curled up under her. "Client declines the right to an article 32 hearing and prefers to go straight to sentencing." She said out loud as she typed the same sentence into the file she was working on. "What an idiot." She shook her head and sighed, not getting why someone would just chose to throw their life away when she was sure an Article 32 would blow the prosecution's case out of the water.

A message flashed briefly on the corner of her screen _Flyboy63 has signed on_. With a smile and a happy sigh, she clicked on the messaging software and prepared to send Harm an IM.

On his cell phone, Harm paced around the small quarters as he filled the General in on the details of the case. "Well, sir, I did fight and, I have to say, it's brutal. . .But, so far, the only illegal part of it all is the betting. . .Tomorrow, I'll see if I can have a look around the warehouse. . .Yes, the details and the location will be the in report I'm e-mailing you. . .Will do, sir, have a good evening."

With a huff, he glanced at the computer and shook his head, the report would have to wait a few minutes longer. "I feel like I've been bowled over by a Tomcat." Harm said with a grunt as he stood then maneuvered his body towards the refrigerator of his quarters in search of some ice. He placed some in a rag and jumped slightly when the unusually loud sound of an IM came out of his laptop. "Yea yea, coming!" He grumbled, then headed back to the small living room, collapsing on the sofa, dragging the laptop onto his lap. "Sarah." He whispered. My God, ever since he was off playing Gunny Davies, he'd forgotten about her. Placing the ice on his cheek he winced as it throbbed.

_NinjaGirlMac: Well, hello there stranger! I've missed you. :kiss_

_Flyboy63: Yea, that makes two of us. . .Sorry for being out of contact, Cresswell sent me on assignment and I've been insanely busy._

_NinjaGirlMac: What are you up to?_

_Flyboy63: Can't say at the moment. Not to use the term 'classified' but it's pretty high profile. You'll know soon enough._

_NinjaGirlMac: Just promise to stay out of trouble, will ya?_

Out of trouble? Yea, like that was ever going to happen? He stared at the screen, unsure what he should write. It might have been stupid, but he didn't want to promise her anything. If something went wrong, he just didn't want to break that promise to her.

Mac, as well, was staring into the screen, waiting for him to write back, to say something else. But, he didn't. That's when she felt it again, that feeling of dread that had been settling at the pit of her stomach. It didn't help that his 'tone' in this chat was a little colder than usual.

_NinjaGirlMac: Harm? Is something wrong?_

_Flyboy63: Just tired, babe. . . I need to finish this report for the General and then I'm going to hit the sac. I'll talk to you soon?_

_NinjaGirlMac: Yeah, okay. Love you._

Again, he didn't answer back. _Flyboy63 has signed out_. That message hurt her more than she was willing to say. _Your message was unable to be delivered._ "Damnit." She cursed then took a quick look at the time. What was he doing going to bed so late, or rather, so early in the morning? Furling her brow, she resisted the urge to call the General, but something made her give in. It wasn't too late in DC and though it was against her normal operating procedures to bother a superior officer, she was desperate. Grabbing her phone, she dialed the numbers she now knew by heart. "Mrs. Cresswell, it's Colonel MacKenzie. Oh, I am fine ma'am, but is the General available? I really need to speak with him." She waited patiently for a few seconds before Creswell's voice answered over the line. "I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but it's about the Captain."

Cresswell grinned from ear to ear. It always amused him that, even though, Harm and Mac were engaged, they still referred to each other by their ranks when speaking with him. "I'd figure you would be calling soon, Colonel. . .The Captain is fine, I assure you. . .He's been sent, by me, on a tough assignment. . .In fact, I spoke to him earlier this evening."

Mac sighed. Thank God. "Thank you sir, it's just that. . . one tends to worry when your fiancé isn't calling you."

"He's fine, Colonel. . .Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you, sir. . .Good evening." With that, she hung up, feeling marginally better. But, she was still unable to get that sick feeling out of her system. Throwing her head back onto the sofa, she sighed deeply and glanced to a picture of her and Harm together. It had been taken that special night at McMurphy's. "You're going to be the death of me, flyboy." With a frown she reached over, took the picture and hugged it to her. Soon they would be together. . .Soon.

0220 Zulu  
Miami, Florida

That evening, the crowd noise was more overwhelming than ever as new meat, an Ensign named Chuck Lane, was facing off against Lance Corporal Sutton. During his stay at SOUTHCOM and subsequent involvement in The Underground, Harm had noticed an increment in activity the moment an officer or a commander of a unit came into the battle. As he headed inside, he stopped for a moment, gave his money to 'The Messenger' and walked in to catch the fight. He stood in the back, feeling eyes on him and a familiar sense of foreboding that made him feel uneasy.

"Commander Rabb, fancy meeting you down here." As much as Harm tried to remain impartial to the fact that someone in the Underground knew him, he knew he gave himself away as his head automatically snapped towards the voice. He glared at the man standing in front of him and even before realization kicked in, a question was answered. "Petty Officer Luis Zadora, sir."

Harm's foggy memory cleared as snap shots of one of his few botched cases came to his mind. Zadora had been found using marijuana while at sea. Though Harm put up a good fight, Mac had destroyed Zadora's credibility on the stand. "I have no idea who you think I am, now, if you don't mind." He motioned to the battle, cheering along with the other men.

"My mistake then." Zadora said, raising his hands in defeat. Still, there was a look in his eyes, a certainty that he couldn't shake. "You wouldn't mind battling it out with me would you?"

Before Harm knew it, he was placed in the fighting ring again with Zadora as his opponent. The man fought hard, delivering a few blows that had knocked him off of his kilter. With a thud, Harm hit the ground hard, his head banging into the cement floor. As fast as possible, he tapped his fingers to the ground, removing himself from the match.

0310 Zulu  
Mac's Apartment  
San Diego, California

Lungs were burning and she was panting hard, but Mac was unwilling to let exhaustion rule her just yet. Her toned legs carried her across the beach as she ran at full speed towards a lifeguard tower that was her target. As the days had gone by, the communication between herself and Harm were few and far between. It was a rough case, Cresswell reminded her, but it didn't cease this aching inside. She knew something was wrong and it was just a matter of time before it bowled over.

Using the last of her energy, she ran off of the beach and towards their apartment, this time using a light jog instead of the hard run she'd attacked her body with. She took the steps up slowly, pausing to get the mail that she'd neglected to pick up when she arrived. After opening the door, she tossed her keys on a side table, locked the door and then proceeded to go through the correspondence. Choosing to open the cell phone bill first, she was mildly surprised that Harm's calls at the end of the cycle didn't cost them a single, extra cent. She and Harm had decided to have a joint phone bill since it would lower the costs of calling abroad. Besides her normal calls to him, she found an extra set of calls that originated from his line.

As her eyes scanned the statement she saw daily calls from Harm's cell phone to both Falls Church and Montclair. That would make sense if he were calling Cresswell, but why were the calls so cheap? Promptly, she dialed the number for customer service and waited while the consultant pulled up the whereabouts of Harm's cell phone. "Yes, I am afraid my fiancé's phone might have been stolen. . .I just need to know where the last calls to Montclair and Falls Church originated from." She waited patiently while the operator brought up the information. "Miami? Thank you." With a frown, she tossed the phone on the sofa and sighed deeply. "Harm, what are you up to?"

- - - - - - - - - - - -

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	5. Act 4

**Moooooooving right along. If some of this looks weird, just go with it. This was written last year and I haven't exactlly gone over it. Much. ;)**

**Enjoy!  
Jackie**

**ACT 4 **

0450 Zulu

Harm's Quarters

Miami, Florida

His eyes had never been so sensitive to light. With a groan he fumbled with the switch to the lamp on the table and then dimmed the rest of the lights in his tiny apartment. Harm pinched the bridge of his nose, then massaged his temples in hopes of getting his head to stop pounding. "Feels like I have a jackhammer in there."

Sighing dejectedly, he threw himself onto the sofa, dragging his feet up as he intended to rest his aching body. These types of investigations weren't for him anymore. Then again, he was sure that even if he were younger, he wouldn't be able to take the beating night in, night out. The sad fact of it all was that he was no further along. Past the illegal betting and the fights, there was nothing to report on. Those instances alone would bring down the current circuit, but it meant nothing if he couldn't find the person responsible for it all. It meant even less if he couldn't prove, without a shadow of a doubt that Sutton and Greene were responsible for Lt. Commander Riedling and Lance Corporal Donovan's deaths.

The shrill of his cellphone caught him slightly off guard. Not wanting to move, he extended his hand and took the device only to find there were three missed calls. As it rang again, he flipped open the phone and brought it to his ear. "Rabb."

_("Harm?") _His eyes went wide and his body automatically snapped into a sitting position. It was Mac. (_"Harm?") _He remained silent for a moment longer, his brain telling him that he should have checked before answering that phone. (_"I know you're there, answer me, please." _Her voice seemed frantic, hurt and etched with worry.)

Harm knew that every second he didn't answer was like a black mark on his record with her. Damnit, he didn't want to hurt her, but he needed his mind on his work not moping about as he was in London. Clearing his throat, he brought up the courage to speak. "Hey, Mac."

_("Where are you?") _

He winced at the tone of her voice which had gone from emotional to pissed off. "I ah. . .I can't say."

(Mac held the phone in something of a vice grip. She knew she couldn't be mad at him for not telling her his location, but, she wasn't exactly happy about it either. Relenting, she took a deep breath. _"I'm sorry. . .I know you can't talk about the investigation. . .I just need to know that you're okay. . . Your voice sounds funny.") _

Closing his eyes, Harm wavered slightly at the dizziness and nausea. He barely managed to swallow down the bile that had risen to his throat. "Mac, I'm fine. . .investigation is taking long and I think I'm sick. . . a cold or something." He bit his lower lip as he lied, but he knew he couldn't very well tell her exactly what he was doing, she'd be worried to death.

_("Look, I know you're going to say that I shouldn't be worried about you, but I am. . .I have this. . .this. . . FEELING that something is going to happen." _She waited for him to answer, but when it didn't come, that feeling she had became even stronger. _"Harm? Are you still there?") _

The pounding of his head took a more violent form as Harm managed to stand up. "Look, Mac. . .nothing is wrong, I just feel like crap and need some sleep. . ." His sourly tone bit back at her as he stumbled through the kitchen. His stomach was now joining in the party as he felt it lurch suddenly. "Ugh." Barely making it on time, he had just enough strength to place the phone on the countertop before his body was taken over by dry heaves.

(Mac bit back a motherly instinct as she heard him getting sick over the line. _"Oh, Harm.") _

Bent over, he emptied his stomach into the kitchen sink groaning from the aches of his muscles and the cramping of his stomach. When his body stopped revolting, he cleansed up the sink, poured water over his head and drank some right out of the faucet. With a hint of distaste, he reached for the cellphone and gingerly placed it towards his ear. "I gotta go, Mac. . .tired."

_("You're starting to scare me. . .Why won't you tell me what's going on?"_ She demanded this time in a tone that left no arguments for him. Mac had good reason for the sudden surge of anger, they'd come too far to let an investigation put a wedge between them. She wouldn't let it. Mac wouldn't let him shut down. _"Damnit, Harm. . .ANSWER ME!") _

Her demand was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. The anger, the aggression that had been awaked ever since he stepped foot in the Underground, came alive. For some reason, it even cleared the nausea. "Damnit, MacKenzie, I CAN'T!. . .I feel horrible and the last thing I need is you nagging me to death!" With rage, he slammed the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. As his head started pounding again, he reached for the coffee mug and hurled it across the room watching as it broke into a zillion pieces.

The sound made Harm snap back to reality. This wasn't him, he'd never do something like that. Holding onto the side of the counter, he closed his eyes tightly as he felt remorse from his words to Mac. "Oh God. . .I'm losing it. . I really am losing it." Glancing up he saw his reflection on the window over the sink. The image was distorted and bruised, much like he felt inside.

"I have to get out of here. . ."

Somehow, he wound up back at the Underground where the crowd had become smaller but held the same rich enthusiasm as that of the bigger group. Though he wasn't feeling up to par, he found that just being around the group made him feel better, more alive. As he was stepping over to place a bet, something from the corner caught his eye.

Corporal Greene and Lance Corporal Sutton were dragging a limp body out of the fighting room. It was then that he remembered what he was doing there and set himself to motion. Without being seen, Harm quietly headed down the hallway, using the darkness as an aid to keep himself hidden. He followed the two men as they went farther into the bowels of the warehouse finally entering a room without a door. In there, he squatted behind a stack of crates as he watched Sutton and Greene tying the PA officer, Ensign Lane to the metal piling.

From the shadows another man stepped out and a distinct smell of Monte Cristo cigars filled the air. The man watched as the other two did their best to work up Ensign Lane who kept pleading for them to stop.

Greene hovered over the man with a sneer, then punched Lane in the gut, chuckling as he folded over in pain. "What is it with you Navy guys huh? You really can't handle Marines?"

Sutton, moved in behind Greene. "The last sucker we had down here was also Navy and a Lieutenant Commander to boot. . .at least Maxwell didn't sob as much as you." He also took a swing at Lane, chuckling as the man's body slumped just a bit more.

Eyes wide from the shock, Harm stared on. They _had_ killed Riedling! Moving forward somewhat, he was assaulted again by the smell of Monte Cristo. He'd remembered, quite vividly smelling that recently. _Of Course! Colonel Barrette!_ The man had to be the kingpin in all of it. He was the one with access to everyone in SOUTHCOM and he was the one that had so much to gain from the fights. _Damnit! Colonel Barrette._ But, he needed proof.

Remembering the cell phone in his pocket, Harm fished for it, hoping that it's built in camera could catch the men. He took off a few snaps, then moved in a bit closer when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around, he came face to face with Zadora. "Fancy meeting you here, _Captain._" He said in a voice that echoed through the confines of the room.

Without hesitation, Harm slugged Zadora then took his body and shoved him through a stack of cardboard boxes. Ignoring the unrelenting pain of his headache, he quickly headed out of the room. "He's a JAG!" Zadora yelled as he held onto his side which had been hit with the force of the blow. "Captain Harmon Rabb Junior!"

"Get him!" Barrette ordered and the two Corporal's quickly sped out of the room.

As he ran down the corridor, Harm held onto the walls, using them for support as his body was threatening to give out. He raced through the fighting room, pushing past the crowd and dodging men as they tried to shove him into the middle. Somehow, he managed to get out and was soon standing outside of the warehouse with the rain pounding onto him.

Glancing around, he quickly took note that there were few things he could use as a hiding place. Jumping into the Miami river became a viable idea until he saw the metal stairs that lead to the upper half of the warehouse. He took the steps two by two and stood slightly surprised as the metal door at the top swung open with ease. Inside, he stumbled into the darkness, the only light coming from the city lampposts which were shining through the broken windows. From the outside, he could hear voices, men yelling at each other. Cautiously he went towards one of the windows glancing down to find five men scattered amongst the warehouse grounds. Two of them were making it up the stairs.

As he ran through the upper level, the cellphone in his hand shrilled to life. He stopped running momentarily, glancing down at the caller ID, then placing the receiver to his ear. It was Mac. "Mac, listen to me carefully, I'm in serious trouble. . .Call Cresswell, tell him the assignment went to hell and I'm at the warehouse, I need back up. . .You hear me? I need back up, right now!"

(Mac had been sitting in her apartment, hoping to give him some space, some time to calm down. She needed to call him back, to apologize for not trusting that things were fine. Now, as she heard his frantic voice on the line, she sat up, ram rod straight, eyes wide with fear. _"WHAT!") _

"I'm being followed, I don't have time. Please, Mac, call Creswell right away tell him that Barrette is involved. . . Barrette is involved!" He made it to the end and ducked into an office, squeezing himself past a metal filing cabinet that was blocking his way. "If anything happens to me, remember, I love you. . .I love you so much. Oh no." With that, he dropped the phone; its clattering sound echoing in the empty space as he came face to face with Colonel Barrette. From behind, someone wrapped an electrical cable around his neck and squeezed, the lack of air knocking him out.

_("Oh no? Harm? Harm!"_ He didn't answer her again, but she heard the scuffle, the sound of voice. Worse yet, Mac heard that Harm was choking . . Then, just as quickly as the sounds began, they stopped. _"Harm? Oh God. . .Oh God."_ She didn't want to hang up in hopes that she'd hear something that was pertinent to the situation. Keeping her ear to that phone, she ran across the apartment, seeking out her cellphone. Frantically her fingers danced over the keypad. _"General, it's Colonel MacKenzie. . . Harm's in trouble.") _

_------------------------- - - - - - - - -_

**Commerical5: **_Can't resist a good musical? Do you find that you just don't understand the script unless it's sung to you? We thought so! Coming soon to DVD: "The General Of The Office!" Follow the JAG staff as they sing about their mighty cases to the tune of Andrew Lloyd Webber's "The Phantom Of The Opera" (Mac singing to the beat of Phantom of the Opera): "The Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeneral of the office is coming down. . .to read my files!" (Running into Harm, they both begin some odd waltz type of tango as Harm joins in): "Here's here the Gene-ral of the ooooooffiiiiiiiice!" Follow Harm and Mac as they present their cases in some of the best vocal performances to date! ORDER TODAY! 1-999-OPERAJAG! Operators are now ready to rip you off! _


	6. ACT 6

**And the final act! Thanks for hanging in there, guys. At the bottom are previews for the next story and info on it. :-) It will start posting in September. Probably just after Labor day.**

**Enjoy!  
Jackie**

**ACT 6**

0500 Zulu  
Miami, Florida

Familiar and unfamiliar voices. Sounds of running water; of rain drops on a tin roof. Sounds of laughter. It was all spliced into the soundtrack that was playing in his aching head. As Harm came to, he could feel an intense pain behind his eyes. Swallowing, he could feel a sharp pain to his larynx, something he'd felt before when Corpsman Hodge tried to strangle him during that strange situation inside the Watertown. A coppery taste which assaulted his taste buds made him gag. When he tried to move his arms, he found them to be bound behind his back, wrapped around some sort of pillar.

As he finally managed to pull his eyes open he realized he was alone, that the voices were coming from outside, somewhere. He sighed deeply. Maybe the would forget about him? Maybe the delay gave Mac a chance to contact Cresswell. The General knew his whereabouts and would, no doubt, contact the authorities. "Mac, I'm sorry." He thought in remorse for putting her through all of this. Mattie came to his mind as well as he was sure that this would be another blow that she didn't need. Clenching his jaw, he heard the voices coming closer to him.

They were going to kill him and he knew it. He only hoped it would be quick.

"Hello, Captain." Colonel Barrette stood in front of him with a sick expression on his face. This man truly liked the barbarism of it all. He was into the blood, the gore and the money he was pocketing from each match. Taking a puff, he blew cigar smoke into Harm's face and chuckled as the Naval officer tried to cough. With his unoccupied hand, he punched Harm solidly in the gut, causing an involuntary motion to try and shield his body from the blows. "Don't bother. . .Those ties won't let you go anywhere." With a sigh, the Colonel took another puff of the cigar as he stood watching Harm. "So you're a JAG, huh? Apparently you aren't very good at your work, Captain."

"Screw . . you." Harm managed to whisper out as he tried to lift his head up.

Greene and Sutton, who were standing behind Barrette shared a chuckle at the man's obstinacy. "I'll have to thank Petty Officer Zadora for informing us on who you really are. . .I must say, you had me fooled. . .I don't like being the fool, Captain." He paced slowly for one moment, then stopped in front of Harm with a thoughtful expression. "I have something that might interest you." Barrette raised up Harm's cellphone, opened it and cycled through the information. "Sarah MacKenzie." At that, Harm's head shot up, eyes wide and frightened stared at the phone Barrette was holding. "She was the last person you spoke to." All of Mac's information was there, numbers, e-mail and even the address. Barrette shoved the phone into Harm's face and grinned. "Is she your girl? . . .Maybe, when we're through here, we should pay her a visit, what do you think boys?"

"Oh yea." Sutton said with a malevolent laugh and then took a swing at Harm, hitting him on his already raw cheek. "Is she fun, Captain?"

"She's a Marine and will likely turn you three into nothing more than a grease stain." Harm chuckled and for his efforts received another hard punch.

Sutton walked around, behind Harm and worked on untying him. "We have a little plan for you, Captain. . . I think you're going to love it." He practically dragged Harm through the warehouse and towards the fighting room where the only men gathered were the ones that had followed Harm out of the warehouse. They were standing in a circle and right in the middle, was Ensign Lane.

"What is this?" Harm said as he attempted to stand by himself. His legs were shaky and the only reason he was standing straight was because Sutton and Greene were holding him up. "What's going on?"

Greene stepped into the circle and motioned for Ensign Lane to come closer. "It's our final battle of the night. . . Ensign Lane versus Captain Rabb. ."

Lane, who seemed to be just as bad off as Harm shook his head. "I will not fight him."

"If you value your life, you will." The men chuckled at Sutton's words then began clapping their hands rhythmically, chanting for the battle to begin.

Harm stood in front of Lane who was staring back with a look of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Captain." The man swung at Harm, who was suddenly let go of. He fell forward, out of Lane's punch and stumbled on the ground. Lane tried again as Harm rolled to the side, out of the way. He wasn't willing to hit the younger man. He wasn't going to let them win. Slowly, he came to his feet, hunched over with his fists in the air, in hopes of blocking any advances.

When Lane took another swing, Harm fell backwards onto one of the men that made the circle. He received a punch to the back from one of the men. With the wind knocked out of him, he barely had time to react as Lane swept his legs from under him. "Argh!" He fell to the ground, face first and tried to curl into fetal position in hopes of protecting vital body parts from an assault. Lane was pulled away by the others and Harm felt someone hovering over. Out of curiosity, he peaked upwards.

"Say goodbye, Captain." The Colonel wound up, preparing to give Harm a deadly blow to the face, when a loud sound from behind the double doors stopped him short. "What the?" Spinning around, he came face to face with SOUTHCOM MPs.

"Hands up and back away from that man!" One of them yelled at Barrette, aiming the rifle directly towards the man's back. "Turn around slowly." As Barrette turned the men were surprised who it was they caught in the act. "Colonel Barrette? You're under arrest, sir."

On the ground, Harm breathed a sigh of relief as he felt a hand on his back and a soothing voice telling him everything would be fine. "Captain? It's Corpsman Gonzalez, sir. . .You're going to be alright. . .You're going to be alright." The Corpsman, quickly worked on administering something for the pain. Happily, Harm sunk into drug induced oblivion.

1529 Zulu

Mercy Hospital

Coral Gables, Florida

It had barely been an hour since the plane touched down, but she couldn't do anything else but rush to his side. As Mac entered Harm's hospital room, her already somber face fell just a little bit more. He seemed so small resting against the white sheets in the pastel pink room. Moving in closer, she saw the marks, the bruises and the thin IV tube running into his right arm.

Even biting her lower lip couldn't suppress an audible gasp as she saw his condition. "What have they done to you?" She whispered, tentatively reaching out to brush a hand over one of his own. It startled her slightly to feel his hand moving beneath hers. With a few flutters, his eyes opened slightly.

For the life of him, Harm couldn't tell where he was. The only thing he knew was that he was comfortable and in the presence of someone he cared deeply for. "Mac?"

"Yea, it's me." She said softly, then raised his hand up to kiss his knuckles.

"I've died and gone to Heaven." He breathed out as he willed his eyes to open a bit more.

With her other hand, Mac gently pressed her palm to his cheek, brushing a thumb over his lip. A single tear slipped as she felt the anger welt up. How could anyone do this to him? "Are you okay?"

"I am now. . ." Feeling slightly more awake, he pulled her close, urging her to join him on the small bed. "Mac."

"What are you doing?"

"Come here." He tried again, but she relented against it.

Easily removing her hand from his grip, she moved back slightly, shaking her head at his insistence. "I'll hurt you."

"No. You won't." This time, she didn't resist and allowed for him to pull her closer. Somehow, he managed to adjust them so that she was laying partially on him, partially on the mattress. "God, I've missed you." Harm's lips found hers and they kissed as if it had been years since they'd been apart. He poured his soul into hers, unwilling to let her go ever again if possible.

"I've missed you too." Mac managed to breathe out when they parted for a brief moment. Her fingers traced his facial features as they stared at each other with a sense of wonder. How exactly had they gone so long without being like this?

As the weight of the whole situation came back to him, Harm had trouble holding her eyes with his own. He'd said things, things that he knew hurt her and that was unacceptable. "What I said over the phone. . .I'm sorry."

"I don't care about that. . .all I care about is that you are alright."

"You should care. . ." He looked away in shame, remembering that he'd nearly lost himself in the Underground. He could have very well lost her as well.

Carefully, she turned her head back and pierced him with a look that spoke volumes. Mac wasn't angry, not anymore. She was just relived he was alright. "I forgive you." Happily, she rested her head against his pillow as one of her hands rested over his heart. It was so good to feel that steady thump beneath his skin, to know he was alive. "Creswell told me about the investigation. . .I understand why you didn't tell me where you were."

"It wasn't just an order, Mac. . .I knew I couldn't operate if I had you here. . .And if something went wrong, they would have come after you. It wasn't safe in Miami and. . .wait. . .am I still in Miami?"

"Yes."

"And you're here?"

"Yeeees." Mac said with a slight chuckle, then relented as he winced from her movements. "Sorry."

Harm raised himself up slightly, his attempt at trying to gauge where he was, making him tired. With a groan he sunk back down, careful of his IV and the arm he had draped over his fiancé. "How?"

"Cresswell. He arranged to get me down here." Cringing, she thought back to the flight from hell. "There were no immediate flights so I was on a C-130 with twenty barely legal, undersexed Marines." She met his bewildered look with a cringe and they both laughed it off.

Despite the change in him that was brought on by Mac's presence, he couldn't help but thing about The Underground and the piece of him that stayed behind. "There was something so exhilarating about the fights. . .Part of me liked it." With a clenched jaw he closed his eyes. It was easy to admit things and just as easier to ignore them, but he chose the first option. "I think part of it had to do with you. . .I've missed you so much it was starting to hurt. . .I think it left something in me wide open."

"I know that feeling. . . emptiness. . .I don't want to feel the pain of not being with you."

"Are you afraid of me hurting you?" He asked after sometime, his face contorting slightly. No matter what changed between them, they still had old habits. And those were the toughest ones to break.

"Sometimes. . . And it's not that I don't trust you. . .but we don't exactly have the best track record. . .I won't recover if we go separate ways." She admitted in a soft voice.

"I wouldn't either. . ." As he leaned in to kiss her, the clearing of someone's voice brought their attention to the door where Cresswell stood with a smile.

"Captain, Colonel, glad to see the both of you." He grinned slightly as the two shared a look that said they'd gotten caught. "Since you'll be remaining at the hospital for a day or two, I decided to come down here to finish up the investigation. . .You'll be glad to hear that Colonel Barrette and his boys are behind bars at the moment. The pictures from your cellphone are being analyzed as we speak. . .You did a good job, Captain."

"Thank you, sir."

Cresswell held his grin in place as he turned to leave. "Well, carry on you two."

Harm and Mac shared a good natured laugh. "Was that the same Cresswell who, a year ago, you believed would separate us?" He raised a brow at her, marveling in the way Mac suddenly had a pink tint to her cheeks.

Mac remembered that conversation too well. "Me? Did I really say that?" At his nod, she smiled at him and snuggled in closer, careful of his injuries. "Nah, the General's really a softy when it comes to matters of the heart."

"Uh huh, I'll be sure to tell him that next time I see him." Turning slightly, he kissed the top of Mac's head and just enjoyed having her in his arms again. "I'm glad you're here. . . Really, Mac. . .I've missed you so much."

"Care to show me how much?" She ran a hand down his chest, stopping at his abdomen.

"Hey, I am injured." Harm playfully slapped her hand away, then pulled it back over his heart where it formerly was.

Raising her head up to meet his gaze, a seductive grin spread across her mouth. "Not your lips." With that, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own.

THE END.

Thanks to everyone who's kept up with this story. It was a pleasure to write it and a pleasure to participate in FOJ's Summer Season last year.

Now… To the good part. ;-)

The next story on my docket is one called (Still debating a name change, but the working name is) "The Webbs We've Tangled Ourselves In." Where Harmikins replaces Spookboy on the Paraguay debacle.

There were be MANY changes to the original script, it won't be Harm just taking over Webb's place. There will be an adventure of sorts for Harm and Mac as they try to make it out of Paraguay alive. Sadik Fahd's name will change due to an inside joke between a friend of mine and I. And I am considering redeeming AJ Chegwidden while we are at it. No alligator wrestling this time and he and Mer will stay together. Webb WILL be around just not with Mac, at all… Hell no.

So without further adieu, here's some "previews."

- - - - - - - - -

"Damnit. . .Damnit, Mac why now?" Harm had been fruitlessly in love with Mac for so long, he could barely remember the first time he noticed that his feelings weren't friendly in nature.

- - - - - - - -

"You and the Colonel have known each other for several years, Commander. You've been partnered together. You've surely been adversaries in the courtroom. As far as I am concerned, that's a relationship that works. You know each others strength and weaknesses, something that Agent Webb would never know." Opening a drawer, he reached inside and took out a folder which he slid across the desk to Harm. "Here are the details on the case, the files you will need. Agent Webb has already made contacts with a Raul Garcia, the dealer that he would be trading circuit boards for diamonds with."

- - - - - - -

But, a baby between them would be cherished, loved and Harm would be such a perfect father. That was something, wasn't it? Actually, it was more than something, it was enough. "If he even wants to have a baby with you anymore, Mac." She voiced her thoughts sadly, not wanting to remember that he'd all but hidden the Singer investigation and the paternity of her baby. While she couldn't fathom that Harm had been intimate with Singer, she had to admit, he had acted guilty.

- - - - - - -

Webb reached for his two bags and placed them at his feet as they waited for Harm's to circle around once more. "Pay attention, will you? And before you start making accusations, remember, if anything happens to Mac it's your fault not mine."

- - - - - -

Falling asleep had never been Mac's intention, but the lack their of and a rather exhausting flight and having to wear the stupid pregnancy suit had, inevitably sent her into a slumber. It was a rustle at the door and a jostling of the door handle that woke her. Momentarily unaware that she was not in her apartment, Mac automatically reached for the side arm she kept hidden in a side drawer of the coffee table

- - - - -

"Can you, at least, explain how you got here?"

Raising his head, Harm stared pointedly at her. Not sleeping in the plane or the night before, combined with the sleepless month he'd spent in the brig was starting to take it's toll. "By plane."

- - - - -

"I mean it, Mac. . .You're gorgeous." His voice had taken a husky tone, his body responding in ways that he'd never encountered before. This was all automatic, as if something had finally snapped inside of him and all he could do was feel. His arms encircled her waist, hands laying gently on the full belly. If he didn't apply much pressure, his mind would believe that this was real, that she was carrying their child. Harm felt Mac's body leaning against him now, their eyes meeting each other's gaze through the mirror.

- - - -

"Also, don't forget that if it wasn't for that Declaration of Independence case with Sarah's uncle, neither of you would have met. I single handedly brought you two together." He let that statement flow as if it were complete common knowledge. As if he half expected them to praise thanks for his meager existence.

"You're making that sound like you were playing matchmaker, Webb." If Mac were going to give thanks for meeting Harm, she'd have to start with her uncle, not some CIA – no – undersecretary to whoever he was with back then.

- - - -

"I don't like to play games." Garcia stood up, eyeing the two suspiciously. "Just be happy that we're in public where it would not be wise for me to shoot the both of you." He made to push passed Harm, who's frame towered a good head over his own.

- - -

"Looks like your bodyguard has no interest in keeping you alive." In Garcia's hand was a gleaming, silver 45 mm pistol which was pointed directly towards Mac's head. "So tell me, why should I let you live?"

- -

Shots rang out before Alvaro could finish what he'd been saying. Automatically, Harm's body came over Mac's pushing her down into the seat, covering her from the shower of broken glass. The car skidded to a stop nearly careening off of the road. A tree stopped it's forward motion.

- - -

Former Gunnery Sear gent, now CIA-Spook, Victor Galindez, was not normally a worrier. He'd seen enough in his lifetime to know how to handle himself, something that he did relatively well. Yet, the man sitting across from him, in a seemingly friendly posture, holding a bottle of Flor de Caña, was an enigma. Such had been the men he'd encountered in Afghanistan. He managed to crack a few and retrieve necessary information, but this time, he knew he was on the losing end. "I need to head back to Raul Garcia. Preferably with his drugs."

- - -

For some reason, the last thing Mac remembered before blacking out was her comment to Harm about his being ready when she had one foot out the door. Morbidly, she wondered, if he'd care for her even in death.

- - -

The table, which was nothing more than several stacked wooden blocks with a thick sheet of plywood nailed to the top, had some crude form of foot and arm straps made out of what appeared to be leather belts. To the side was a small wooden table with several car batteries lined side to side. Three of which had jumper cables attached. Several pieces of old, rusted steel wool lay scattered beneath the table. Harm felt a shove against his back as he was thrust into the room. "Please don't do this."

- - - - - -

. "Oh yes, we know your real name now." Mac's consideration of remaining defiant was quickly erased when he produced a wallet sized picture of herself and Harm during the USMC/USN Gala earlier that year. It had occurred before the Singer mess and was the first time that they'd all gone out as a group. Harm had been her unofficial 'date' and the two of them had made up excuses as to why they were alone.

- - - - -

. "You have. . .no idea. . .how bad this . . is. . .No idea what th-they did. . .to me. . .I can't. . .I can't do this. . .I can't. . .I won't. . .hear them. . .do that to you. . . Please, just. . .try to escape."

"Harm, I won't leave you."

- - - -


End file.
